Time Marches On
by Southernswimmer
Summary: My first story When Hermione foolishly uses a strange time turner, she ends up stranded in another time. Meeting people she thought she'd never see again, she even considers staying. Life would be much better there, or so she thinks.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n This is my first story I've written uploaded. Please, no flames, just honesty on what y'all think. Thanks :D I don't own any characters, except Preston Brinehart. SS/HG**

Hermione Granger groaned as the high pitched beeping of her alarm spell slowly penetrated her foggy mind, dragging her out of a deep sleep. Groggily, she rolled over and flung an arm out, blindly searching for her wand on the bedside table.

"_Shut up_, you stupid thing." She grumbled as her fingers wrapped around the smooth wood of her wand. Lazily, she waved her wand, ending the obnoxious sound, then murmured "Tempus" while cracking one, then the other open. As they adjusted to the light flooding the room through the window, she glanced at the floating numbers. '_10:30_' She nodded, then rolled over. Then it hit her. "10:30?!?" Hermione say up like a shot then flew out of bed.

"Shit! I'm going to be late for Transfiguration!" The 16 year old cursed to herself, burrowing through her trunk for a clean pair of jeans, robes, and shirt. She noted with a spike of fury all her dorm mates were already gone. "Stupid harpies... They might have woken me up." She muttered, stripping down before throwing on her clothes. Slinging her stuffed schoolbag over her shoulder, she headed towards the door but caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her curly brown hair surrounded her head in a wild, afro-like halo. She huffed in irritation and pulled it back into a hasty pony tail before running out the door and down the stairs. She nearly bowled over a second year as she lept out of the portrait hole and sprinted down the corridor.

Hermione was halfway to class before the bell rang. She skidded to a stop above a staircase as an irrational wave of sudden despair washed over her and her eyes watered up. She acknowledged being late to class for the first time in her school career didn't warrant such a reaction. In reality, it was the whole past year, and little everyday stressers just seemed to add to the overall situation. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she decided not to go to class. '_I'll mess up if I'm upset like this_' She thought as she backtracked down the hall a bit before entering a half hidden alcove. Needing time to think in the comforting silence of the castle, she crawled up onto the large window ledge and hugged her knees to her chest, gazing mournfully out the glass. The lake reflected sparkling sunshine, suggesting a happier time than what she was feeling.

The final battle of the war had finally occurred last May. Voldemort had charged the castle the last day of term, expecting it to be full of students as well as unarmed and unprepared. Unknown to him, Hogwarts was chock full of aurors and Order members. It had turned out that Snape, though he had killed Dumbledore, was loyal and had been feeding information to the Light, giving them an advantage. So what Voldemort had thought was a surprise attack ended up in his being ambushed. Despite Snape's best efforts, Voldemort had withheld the vital information of the exact size of his army. In the end it was a close fight. Though Death Eaters and a variety of dark creatures outnumbered the Order members, students, aurorers, and friendly forest denizens, the light had the advantage of surprise and managed to prevail. Victory came at a great price, and many had died.

Hermione sniffled, her tears finally dripping down her freckled cheeks as she started mentally listing those that died. Dumbledore, many in her year at Hogwarts, Snape, Lupin, Firenze, Ginny, Ron, Fred, and Arthur Weasley were among the hundreds whom perished. Harry, who'd managed to duel and slay the Dark Lord, was slipped with a stray cutting curse, resulting in the amputation of his left arm. He had stuck around a bit after the end, but slowly spiraled into depression and withdrew into himself. The Golden boy developed a drinking habit to cope with the pain, and when Hermione and the remaing Weasley's attempted to talk to him about it he snapped at them before disapperating. No one had seen or heard from him since.

Her sad brown eyes tracked the various students as they ran here and there across the castle's lawn. The memory of how after the battle sobbing families had gathered around their dead surfaced and she jerked away from the window. Everyone had suffered great losses. Hermione had lost most of her close friends, leaving only Molly, George, Bill, and Charlie as her support group and family. They'd grown very close in the months following the war.

One of Hermione's worst lossess was the death of her parents. Despite her best efforts, Voldemort ruthlessly tracked them down, finally slaying them in Australia where they were hidden. He'd hoped it would break the brains of the trio that kept defeating him. Hermione let out a derisive snort. In reality, it made the fight that much more personal and evoked an even greater determination to bring the despot down. It had stirred up a great rage inside of her, but unlike her fellow Gryffindors, she didn't react in a blind act of uncontrollable and emotional revenge. She'd remained cool on the outside, while the fury bubbled and stewed deep inside as she carefully and meticulously plotted. On the battle field, she'd released it all. Death Eaters fell left and right from deadly and creative curses that flew from her wand. Though ashamed of her lack of control, Hermione refused to be laden down with guilt. _It was war, and evil people must be eliminated_ she told herself.

Sighing, she stood up. It was time to go to class. Staying hidden in the alcove, she dug in her pocket and pulled out a small silver object on a chain. A time turner. Unknown to the others, she'd come across it during the battle at the Department of Mysteries a year ago. She hadn't used it, and just recently found it again at the bottom of her trunk.

Hermione pondered it, holding it up to the light. It was different than the one she'd been given in her third year. Not only as it silver, strange runes were carved into it. Try as she might, she couldn't decipher what they meant, even armed with her formidable knowledge of ancient runes and symbols.

"Do I take the chance?" She murmered to herself, running a finger across the engravings. The time space continum was a dangerous and foolish thing to mess with. "Why not?" Taking a deep breath, she spun the tiny hourglass and closed her eyes. The familiar strange feeling of time travel came and went, and she opened her eyes.

The sun was lower on the horizon and her "Tempus" showed it was 10:00 AM. Hermione grinned. _Perfect_. Confident all had gone well, she slipped the time turner around her neck and tucked it into her robes before exiting the hidden alcove.

"Where did you come from, young lady?" A deep voice demanded. Startled, she spund around. A portrait of a handsome middle aged man in Victorian clothing was glaring at her. Hermione's mind raced, certain he hadn't been ther earlier, or later if you prefer, in the morning. In fact, she would have sworn there hadn't been a portrait frame at all beside her alcove.

"Quite clearly from that area over there" She snapped at him, irritable from being surprised and flustered. "I've been there all morning studying." She lied, pointing to her bag slung over her shoulder. The painting's striking green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where were you then, this fine morning?" She challenged, anger flaring up at the accusatory look. She struggled to keep it in check. Ever since the war, she'd had issues with her formidable temper. The man's painting curled a digusted lip into a sneer. Affronted at being spoken to like that, he carefully smoothed his light brown hair back and puffed up a bit.

"I happened to be right here. ALL MORNING" He sniffed, giving the curly headed girl a disdainful look. She locked her brown eyes with his flashing green ones. A beat of tense silence passed, then the man frowned. "You're not a student here."

Hermione blinked, surprised at the unexpected comment. "Er... What?"

"You. Are. Not. A. Student. Here." The ornery painting drawled slowly. "Who are you?" He tilted his head, studying her.

"But I am." She replied, baffled. "I'm a sixth year Gryffindor. Who are you?" A feeling of unease began to grow.

"Preston Brinehart. And I don't believe you. I've never seen you before. Once again I shall ask. Who are you?" The regal looking portrait demanded. Hermione looked at him, trying to figure out how to answer. Stalling, she glanced at her watch.

"Damn!" She cursed vehmently. It was 10:25.

Brinehart looked deeply offending. "That is most unneccesary!" He rumbled angrily, his shocked disapproval evident in his tone. Hermione was already jogging down the hall. "Wait a moment! Young lady!" He called after her, growling in frusteration as she dissapeared around the corner. Exasperated, he sank into the arm chair and grabbed the glass of brandy painted next to him. "I've got to inform the headmaster..." He sighed, standing up and trudging out of his frame.

**A/N what did y'all think? I have more already written. I know the whole idea is kinda cliché, but please be kind and REVIEW. Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks to all who reviewed. It was really encouraging. I'll do my best to add my own spin to it. Now, onward to the next chapter. If anyone would like to beta, let me know. I'm not sure how that whole thing works.**

Hermione barreled down the corridor and several flights of stairs, her mind racing just as fast as her feet. The appearance of the portrait of the aristocratic Preston Brinehart was worrying her. Unless the castle was playing games with her (as it liked to do occasionally), there seemed to be something that went terribly wrong when she spun that time turner. She figured if she got to class before it started, she could find out what was going on and fix it. As tempted as she was, she realized it wouldn't be the best nor the smartest course of action to try and use the time turner to return to the time where she had originally been present in. Absorbed as she was in her thoughts, she failed to notice the large mass on the stone floor until she tripped over it.

"Merlin's balls!" She yelped as she went momentarily airborne before landing hard on her shoulder with a nasty thud and shattering sound. Royally pissed, Hermione sat up and glared around. Her bad had opened and her books had scattered everywhere. A small smattering of glass lay beside her, and she began to have a sinking feeling as she looked at it then grabbed at her neck. Her worst fear was confirmed. The peculiar time turner had broken when the hourglass had splintered on impact with the cold floor. "Fuck my life..." She moaned, flopping back down onto the ground.

After a few minutes, she roused herself out of the self-pitying thoughts consuming her and began to collect her books and papers, shoving them into her bag. As she closed it, it occurred to her she had actually fallen over something, not just her own feet. Turning around she approached the black lump on the ground, half hidden in shadows. On guard and a bit nervous, she pulled her wand from her pocket and held it steady. The obstacle was a boy with his robes tangled around him. He was face down and completely still. The Gryffindor in her caused her to rush forward and turn him over. She could tell from the unnatural stiffness of his arm he was the victim of a full body bind spell. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she backed away. When she released him from the spell, she didn't want to take the chance of becoming an easy target for a punch or kick. Flicking her ivy wood wand, she said, "Finite Incantatum" As she had expected, the moment the boy was freed from the jinx he lept to his feet with his fist up.

"Leave me the bloody hell alone!" He hollered hoarsely

"Whoa now." She raised her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just here trying to help you." The boy dropped his hands, but remained tense. Cautiously, he stepped out of the shadows masking his face. Hermione looked him up and down. He was a tall boy, about 6 foot 4, but very thin and almost gangly His too large robes hung loosely over his lean body, and had several worn patches on them, as well as the Slytherin crest on the left breast. He was probably around 17, and was looked vaguely familiar. He had pale skin, high cheek bones, and thin lops. Black eyebrows furrowed above dark, intense eyes. His nose was aristocratic, prominent and defined.

"Who are you?" He demanded, pulling a black wand from the depths of his robes. _'I've seen that before' _She thought to herself. His longish black hair fell across his eyes and he irritably flicked it back. Her grip tightened on her own wand, bristling slightly at the threatening movement.

"Why does everybody keep asking me that? I'm a student here for Merlin's sake!" She huffed, giving him an agitated glare. The Slytherin just arched one eyebrow condescendingly, and suddenly it clicked as to why he looked so familiar. A bizarre mixture of fear, excitement, and confusion over came her, and she became slightly dizzy, stumbling back away from him. "Severus Snape!" She gasped, barely resisting the urge to rub her eyes to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing.

17 year old Snape raised the other eyebrow to join the first. "Indeed. I'm fairly certain of my own name. But that still doesn't explain who _you_ are." He sneered. Hermione continued to gawk at him.

"I... You..." She attempted to gather her thoughts as her dead professor's young self looked at her with thinly veiled irritation and exasperation. "What year is it?" Snape scowled with a look of dark disbelief. "I don't belong here! And I'm sure you're thinking I'm crazy." She rambled as her normally rational mind ground to a standstill on how proceed.

"Most obvious, I must add." Snape sneered, raising his wand. Not wanting to inflame the situation, Hermione resisted the instinct to disarm him. "You'll accompany me to Headmaster Dumbledore's office, Miss 'I don't belong here'"

"My name is Hermione Granger, Professor." She corrected, starting off towards Dumbledore's office. She missed the peculiar look that shadowed the tall boy's face. Lost in thought, she also didn't notice Snape had followed her.

"First you claim you're a student here, then that you don't belong." A deep voice intoned beside her left ear, causing her to jump. Snape was right behind her left shoulder, looking puzzled before continuing. "Yet you know where the Headmaster is?"

"If you were in my situation, you'd understand." Hermione sighed stopping abruptly infront the the secret entrance guarded by the snarling gargoyle. He bumped into her, not paying attention.

"I apologize, Miss Granger." Snape mumbled, a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks. She just nodded at him, shocked at how she'd felt at the short contact. He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away.

"No worries, Profe... er, yeah..." She finished lamely, realizing he was not really her professor now and that she had no clue what to call him. He looked slightly confused again, but quickly hid it. Already he had started to form those hard walls around him, she realized with a pang in her heart. Knowing he wouldn't understand her sympathy, she turned to the doorway. "So, what ridiculous sweet is this password?" Snape looked surprised at her knowledge and opened his mouth to answer, but a serene voice behind them cut him off.

"Cockroach Clusters, actually my dear." It was said in a calm and familiar way she knew well. Hermione spun around, curls flying. There stood Albus Dumbledore in all his glory, his purple robes covered in shooting stars. His snowy white beard wasn't as long as when she had know him, but she knew the powerful wizard for who he was all the same. It was like a blow to the stomach.

"Professor Dumbledore!" She choked. His blue eyes twinkled at her, alive as ever. Tears built up and spilled over, and her legs became too shaky to support her. She sat abruptly on the ground, silent sobs wracking her slight body. Snape looked on, alarmed and confused at the outburst. Dumbledore turned grave and waved a ring covered hand at the statue. It jumped away, allowing access to the stairway.

"Severus my boy. Please get our mysterious visitor up into my office. I must consult with Mr. Brinehart, but we'd best take this upstairs, yes?" Dumbledore swept up the twisting stairs, leaving the teenage boy to deal with her. He just rolled his eyes and knelt beside the girl. Cautiously he tapped her shaking shoulder.

"Hey. Come on, Granger. Into the office." He ordered, but she just continued crying. "Merlin help me..." He groused. Sighing, he pulled her up off the floor then swung her up into his arms. Despite his thinness, he had a pretty good amount of strength in his sinewy muscles and wiry frame. Hermione said something unintelligible and flung her arms around his shoulders before burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. Unsettled by her actions, he hurried up the stairs. Dumbledore was conferring quietly with Snape's favorite portrait, Preston Brinehart. The teen stood awkwardly with Hermione in his arms. Her tears had ceased, and she was just sniffling from time to time. "Professor, sir. Where do I put her?" He interrupted, blushing as she inhaled deeply as if sniffing him. Dumbledore effortlessly conjured a large armchair. Preston caught Snape's eye over her bushy head.

"I see you've caught our runaway." Brinehart said proudly. "I'm glad."

"Yes sir. Eve though I must admit, Preston, it was more her finding me in the beginning." Snape smiled a rare, genuine smile while placing the now silent girl in the chair. The portrait's deep chuckle sounded behind him. Snape ignored it, wondering what he should do. Despite his better judgment, he felt an urge to stay beside her. Hesitating, he finally walked away and stationed himself on the opposite side of the room.

Hermione wiped her face, feeling faintly embarrassed but completely justified in her tears. It's not everyday you stumble upon someone you knew and watched die alive, let alone two! With red rimmed eyes she looked around the room, Dumbledore's office was almost exactly the same as the last time she'd been in it. Various trinkets, magical and muggle, littered the shelves and table tops. Her gaze was drawn to Snape. He was standing rigidly across the room, his face once again an unreadable mask and his hands clasped tightly behind his back. She briefly recalled the firm feel of his chest and arms as well as his masculine scent, and quickly averted her eyes. His intense stare was boring into her, and she had no way of knowing if he had yet mastered the skill of legilmenacy.

Her attention switched to the front of the office. Dumbledore was scribbling something on a parchment, and Brinehart was on the wall looking at her with intelligent green eyes, amusement on his face. She nodded politely, and he acknowledged it with a raised hand. The room was silent with only the scratching of Dumbledore's quill making sound. Finally the elderly wizard layed it down and fixed his penetrating gaze on her.,

"Young lady, who are you?" He inquired kindly. Hermione groaned and dropped her head into her hands. _My new most unfavorite question from this point on!_ She thought, barely restraining herself from laughing hysterically. Who knew it'd be so tedious to travel through time?

**To Be Continued...** **Review please! Any ideas? Questions? Comments? Concerns?**


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione sighed. "All right, my name is Hermione Granger. Sir, I've really messed up this time. You see, I…" Her nervous ramble trailed off as Dumbledore raised a hand. His blue eyes were twinkling in amusement.

"Ms. Granger, we all know it's safe to assume you're not from here. Well, I suppose you are from here, but not from this time." The white bearded wizard looked thoughtful. "Why don't you share how exactly you ended up here?" Hermione nodded, then launched into her story. When she got to the part about the time turner and how'd she gotten it, Snape's eyes widened and Preston Brinehart looked impressed. As her tale drew to a close, Dumbledore began pacing. Snape was the first to talk, startling her. He'd been motionless as a muggle statue against the wall, regarding her with a guarded look.

"You obtained a time turner from the Department of Mysteries?" His deep voice rose slightly in disbelief. She nodded curtly, ruffling slightly. He doubted her? "How'd you manage to even get into the Ministry, let alone that department?" He demanded stepping closer to her.

"Trust me, it's easier to just take my word for it." She growled, anger flaring up. "Besides, I don't have to explain anything to you, Professor Snape!" He scowled down at the seething girl.

"Well, madam, I'm not obliged to just _take your word for it_ at this moment." His tone was slightly scathing, slightly mocking, before beginning to rise in frustration as he huffed "And why in Merlin's name do you keep bloody calling me Professor?" Snape fixed her with an accusatory glare. That was the last straw for Hermione. She leapt out of the armchair and turned on him.

"Alright, you bastard! You asked for it. The maniac called Tom Riddle, better known as Voldemort, was constantly targeting my friends and me. For 5 years, I have had to experience sporadic battles and confrontations between him and us. Last year, in an attempt to save my friend's godfather, we charged into the Department of Mysteries where we were ambushed by Death Eaters. And guess what? We may have survived, but he died anyways!" She had advanced forward and was in his face. (As much as she could be at least. A large height difference prevented it) Viciously she stabbed her finger into his chest. "In the end, it really doesn't matter how I got the damned time turner, alright? And you, Severus Snape, happened to be my Potions professor for 5 years and a spy for the light in the war against Voldemort." Face red and hair flying, she spun about and stormed back to the arm chair. In her rage, she had backed the Slytherin up against the wall and left him looking vaguely shell shocked. Sucking in a few deep breaths as she struggled to quench the rage inside of her, she looked up to find Dumbledore and Brinehart staring at her. She blushed.

"Atta girl" Brinehart finally said, clapping politely. She looked down at her feet in embarrassment to avoid looking at the portrait.

"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore. That's a rather, er… Touchy topic. I haven't really quite gotten past it yet." She whispered.

"It's quite alright. It'd be a difficult thing for anyone." He said kindly, patting her shoulder sympathetically. "Right now though, we've got to figure out what to do with you. As of now, there's no way to send you back that I'm aware of. Until I find something, we'll have to decide where to place you and how to integrate you into this time's Hogwarts." Hermione nodded, then watched as Snape stepped forward. A neutral mask was once again in place, covering his previous shock from her outburst. Already, she noticed, he was becoming effective at hiding his emotions.

"Sir, I'll just be going now." He started for the door, but stopped when Dumbledore waved a hand, effectively locking it. "Professor, I really don't feel…" Snape began protesting.

Dumbledore spoke over him, cutting his plea off midsentence. "No, you should be here Severus. You are going to be Miss Granger's guide until she gets settled."

"What?" Both teens' voices rang out at once, their tone shocked and the eyes wild.

"But he's a Slytherin!" Hermione pointed at the outraged boy. "I'm a Gryffindor. We just won't get along."

Snape stepped forward an nodded in agreement. "She's absolutely right, sir. That is just ridiculous." Preston Brinehart snickered in the background, and both students gave him resentful glances. The portrait just laughed harder.

Dumbledore smiled. "Miss Granger, I'd expect such unmasked stereotypical predjudice from young Severus here," Snape snorted, rolling his eyes. "but you strike me as the type that's against things like that. Am I right?"

"Of course I don't stereotype!" She declared, then flushed slightly and mumbled, "Oh, well, maybe I am a bit prejudiced on occasion. I didn't mean anything by it, er… Severus." The curly headed girl gave him a sideways glance, and he nodded in acceptance of her apology. They turned back to the elder wizard, but he had begun examining his beard.

An awkward silence descended upon the room. Hermione and Snape waited for Dumbledore to continue, but he seemed disinclined to. The Headmaster just stood there, appearing very fascinated with a split end on a hair in his beard.

"Gay baby…"

Hermione's head shot up from where she was watching her shoes (which were actually rather tattered she noticed) and she stared at Snape, who was the person from which the muttered comment had come from. "Excuse me?" She said, incredulous.

He shifted his weight awkwardly, and looked uncomfortable. "You know, the whole thing where every time there is an awkward silence, erm, a gay baby is born. Do they not have that in your time?"

"Of course, I recognize the saying." She waved a dismissing hand. "I'm just shocked you of all people know it! It's very…. Muggle." Hermione cocked her head, trying to figure the young Professor out. Snape visibly closed up after that comment, his face going expressionless.

"I was raised muggle." He said stiffly. She just nodded, realizing his tone wasn't very friendly towards further discussion of his past. Just like his adult self, she thought. For some reason, the clear tension in his body and sad eyes tugged at her heart strings, causing her to want to avoid aggravating him and dredging up whatever hurt was plaguing him. Dumbledore finally began talking, but the tension in the dark headed boy didn't ease, and Hermione's thoughts were roiling like her feelings. One moment, she was spitting mad, ready to hex the infuriating man. The next, all she wanted to do was wrap him in a hug to comfort him and drive his demons away. 'What's going on with me?', she thought. 'I'm never like this'.

"Granger!" the object of her thoughts snapped, jerking her back to reality.

"Yes sir?" She gasped automatically, flustered. He glared at her from under his dark brows, then jerked his head towards the elder wizard standing their patiently. "Oh, I'm so sorry Professor. I was lost in thought" She apologized, blushing again under his penetrating scrutiny.

"Welcome back, Miss Granger." He teased gently, blue eyes full of a knowing look. "As I was saying though, you'll be placed in Gryffindor, but Severus here will be your student ambassador, helping you around the first few months. For the most part, you'll be in the same classes since I've decided to place you in 7th year." He raised a hand to silence her when she opened her mouth to object. "Yes, I know you were in your sixth year, but I've… acquired enough information in this meeting to place you as such." Severus looked vaguely disgruntled. Hermione slammed up her mental shields, propelling Dumbledore forcefully out of her mind and memories. He was a skilled at legilmenacy, and she'd completely forgotten. Despite her temporary lapse in protection, it was easy to reject him and he looked impressed, but not surprised. Snape looked on and appeared desperate to say something, but restrained himself.

"It's an honor, sir, for you to think so highly of me, even after such a stupid mistake that landed me a generation before my own." She offered an embarrassed half-smile.

Dumbledore gave a smile in return, his clue eyed gaze wandering to the Slytherin who was eyeing Hermione with a mixture of jealousy, respect, awe, and frustration. It made for a strange expression, and a hard one to read at that. "It'll be alright. Your appearing in this time… I feel you'll do great good here. Especially for certain people." The old man murmured mysteriously. Snape's head snapped around, locking his suspicious glare on the Headmaster while Hermione snuck a look at him.

"What do you mean, Headmaster?" He demanded. Dumbledore just gave a benign smile, then waved his hand at the door. It swung open.

"You'll find out in time, my boy. Time, after all, is a funny thing, don't you agree, Miss Granger? Now, you too frolic off now. I've work to do." Snape scowled blackly, then stormed out the door, muttering things like "Frolic? Who the bloody hell _frolicks?_"

Hermione smothered a laugh, and waved goodbye to Dumbledore and Brinehart. "Good bye! Thank you both!"

"Good day, Granger." Preston nodded. Dumbledore waved, then turned back to his massive oak desk. Hermione half ran out the door to catch up with her new 'guide' and down the stairs, skipping steps as she went. As she flew out of the entrance, she ran face first into something black and firm. Startled, she stumbled backwards and tripped only to land in the stony arms of the Gargoyle statue. It tightened its arms around her slightly, keeping her from falling to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Snape's face was expressionless. She scrambled to get her feet underneath her, sighing as the statue released her. Hermione frowned at the slight amusement that flitted across his face in response.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I thought you'd left me!" She huffed, then murmured a thank you to the gargoyle.

Snape raised one eyebrow in question. "Indeed? Well, I would never shunt a responsibility, let alone one dictated by Dumbledore."He sneered, looking her up and down. She fought not squirm from his cutting gaze as well as the eerie feeling of how true his words would ring true in the future. "And from my recollection, you are the one that ran into me. Why have you not apologized, or even asked me how I am?" Hermione began to bristle, but her rising temper soon died down as she realized he was right.

"I'm sorry, er…" She trailed off, once again unsure how to address the imposing teenager. "What do I call you?"

He looked at her carefully for a few beats, then gracefully shrugged his broad shoulders. "Well, obviously calling me 'Professor' Snape" He made a face and Hermione laughed "is rather inappropriate, so I suppose whatever you wish." Her face lit up, and he quickly added, "So long as it isn't derogatory. I've had enough of _that_ bull shit." His words were laced with bitterness, and she felt immediately ashamed of her earlier explosion.

"Look Severus." She struggled momentarily to wrap her mouth around the previously forbidden name, and was pleased when it managed to roll of her tongue smoothly. 'I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to snap, I just… Well, I'm sorry." She didn't feel as if he needed nor wanted the justification, just the apology. He frowned, searching her face for something, then offered a barely there smile, just a quirk of the right side of his mouth, after seeming to find what he was looking for.

"Apology accepted." Severus the spun on his boot heel and began striding off. "Come on!" He tossed over his shoulder. "It is time for lunch. Keep up, now!" Hermione rolled her eyes and thought 'He's still the same controlling man' as she jogged after him.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I apologize for taking forever to update my story! Senior year has been busy with applying for college and pretending to take interest in some of my AP classes… Exciting personal update is I was accepted to my first choice of college, the US Air Force Academy! But here is the 4__th__ chapter! _

The two teens finally reached the impressive, ornate doors of the Great Hall. Severus slowed his pace as he approached them, then stopped and turned to her.

"Are you eating with me?" He asked, then rolled his eyes before she could respond and answered his own question. "No, of course not. You need to sit with the other _Gryffindors. _(He sneered slightly at that). I'll find you later. Good day." He said formally before striding imperiously through the open doorway. She watched the tall, lithe boy sit down between two eerily familiar Slytherines, his black hair falling into his eyes as he hunched his shoulders and began eating. Reluctantly she tore her gaze away from her escort and made her way towards the Gryffindor table. Looking along its length, she chose to slip into a gap between two relatively quiet students. The rest of Gryffindor were loud and boisterous, cracking jokes and laughing and chatting, having a generally good ole time. As she began to fill her plate, she became uncomfortably aware her subtle attempt to blend in failed. The boy next to her turned and observed her with startling blue eyes.

A girl across the table from him kicked him, and he looked away. Hermione tried fastidiously to ignore their whispering, but she felt her face begin to heat with embarrassment. After a few minutes, the girl slid down some to where she was directly across from Hermione, and she reluctantly pulled her focus away from her plate when she felt both the boy and the girl's gazes on her. "Hello, you must be new here." The girl said pleasantly.

Hermione immediately felt kindly towards the soft, brown eyes and round face. It was the first time in awhile, she mused to herself, that she'd felt unsuspicious and inclined to trust someone on first sight. "Er, yes. I'm new here." She finally answered, smiling cautiously back at the cheerful girl. "My name's Hermione."

The girl beamed at her. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, Hermione. I'm Alice and that lump" She waved a hand fondly at the blushing, blue eyed boy, "is Frank. He's rather shy, but a decent bloke once he gets the nerve to talk." Alice winked at him, oblivious to Hermione's shock. She shook slightly at the realization that she was sitting with Neville Longbottom's parents, and studied the pair as she chewed the bit of food she'd eaten until she could respond. Neville had Alice's soft, baby face when he was younger, though his eyes belonged to Frank. However, as he'd gotten older he'd begun to thin out and resemble his father more and more.

"It's nice to meet you two as well." She managed after she swallowed. The three ate relatively quietly while Hermione reveled in her meal. This lunch was her favorite. The mashed potatoes were the first to go, followed by the ham. When it neared the end of the lunch period, a grey owl swooped down and dropped a rolled up piece of parchment on her empty plate. Alice and Frank watched curiously as Hermione unfolded it and read. "It's my schedule." She explained in responds to the questioning looks. Her first period was NEWT potions, second was free, third was NEWT transfiguration. That was followed by lunch, then Charms. Sixth and seventh were Ancient Runes and Warding, respectively. Her brow furrowed after reading the last one. There wasn't a class like that in her time. Last she had DADA. After absorbing it, she rambled them off to her lunch mates.

"Well, I'll have Defense and Charms with you. Frankie is a 5th year, so he won't have any classes with you." Alice gave Frank a playful look as he huffed at the nickname. Hermione raised an eyebrow. She'd never realized they'd been a cougar couple.

She fought a giggle as Frank blushed, and mumbled "Come on now… I'm not _that_ young…"

Alice smiled sympathetically and patted his hand. "I'm just playing with you. Lighten up will you?" She nudged him and he smiled shyly back. She then turned back to Hermione. "Hey, do you want to walk with me to charms?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'd love to, but Dumbledore assigned me a guide I have to stick with for awhile. I'll see you there though, because here he comes now." She said as she caught sight of Severus. She shouldered her pack and stood up from the bench to face the moody teenager stalking over her way. Alice watched with interest as her new friend greeted him amiably. "Hey Severus. Ready?"

He regarded her with apparent indifference then nodded in greeting. "Granger." His hawk-like gaze flicked to her companions. "Longbottom, Bellamey." His tone was mild, if not bordering on pleasant.

"Hullo, Snape. How are you?" Frank rumbled clearly, sitting up straight and meeting Snape's eyes unflinchingly. The older boy shrugged gracefully.

"Alright. Yourself?" Despite the outward calmness and familiarity of the conversation, Hermione felt an undercurrent of tension that reminded her uneasily of the dynamics of her own time that led to the slaughters of the war. She suspected that it could be attributed to the rivalry between houses, and was impressed they were speaking, let alone cordial to eachother.

"Fine." Was Frank's slightly terse response.

Hermione shifted slightly in the awkward silence, then broke it. "Alrighty then. I'm off to class. I'll see you two later, okay? Come on, Severus, let's go." She waved at the couple and strode out of the noisy Great Hall, assuming her escort would follow.

He caught up with her as she reached the Grand staircase. "I am _not_ a puppy-dog" He growled as they mounted the stairs side by side.

Hermione gave him an amused smile, finding the mixture of his funny comment and ease of tension from lunch a relief. "I'm glad you aren't. I'd be kind of worried if the future tragic hero of the wizarding world was a mere canine." She snickered at her joke, but the thought of his death floated to the forefront of her mind and the smile died. Severus took note of the change, and tactfully chose not to press her on the subject though he had a burning curiosity to know how he played into the Great Wars. After all, being a hero normally required one to be dashing, charming, and handsome, none of which, he thought with a scowl, described him.

Instead, he asked, "Where are you headed now?" They both swayed slightly as the stair case chose to move.

"Charms I believe. Is Professor Flitwick still the teacher?" Hermione answered, holding out her schedule. He took the proffered paper and scanned it. She recognized his obvious restraint in not probing her for information about his future, and realized he would not have been so careful of her feelings in her own time had he still been alive. Mentally, she snorted, knowing full well Professor Snape would have hounded her about it till she broke, regardless of her emotional state. Teenage Severus wasn't so bad after all she thought as she watched him read.

"The old coot…" He murmured, looking faintly irritated before looking up and handing back her schedule. "We have all our classes together it seems. And yes, Flitwick is still the Charms teacher." The word 'charms' was accompanied by a slight grimace, and Hermione covered a smile as they proceeded up the stairs. Deep down, he really was the same old anti-"foolish wand waving" man.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Hey y'all! Here's another relatively quick update to apologize for the huge lag last time. REVIEW! Any request, comments, questions, and concerns are welcome, just not too harsh of flames please. Now, enjoy (hopefully)._

The pair entered the classroom and chatted quietly with Professor Flitwick about their situation. The short, goblin-esque man nodded, saying he'd already spoken with Dumbledore. The two retreated to the back corner desk and waited as students filed in for class.

"So, why don't you like charms?" Hermione asked Severus. He looked vaguely puzzled, which surprised her. The Severus Snape she had known would NEVER have appeared puzzled.

"I never said I didn't." He responded.

"Oh, come off it." She scoffed. "You always go on about 'foolish wand waving' and how you despise it in the future. And, you seemed pretty unhappy about it earlier." He furrowed his brow, and leaned back in his chair while crossing his arms.

"It's not that I don't _like_ it… It's just not my most, er, enjoyable class." He said simply. Hermione pressed him for an explanation, but he refused to elaborate. She eventually gave up as his lips tightened in irritation. She didn't have time to pout over it long though because class began. Severus smirked at how her eyes lit up and she sat straighter, focused intently on their miniature teacher. Not halfway through the lecture did she realize she was behind the class in material, and for the first time since the last battle she felt the strength and will of her drive to learn return. Before long, she was completely engrossed in the class, taking notes frantically.

She didn't notice Snape was observing her through much of the class. He took notice of the speed she scribbled legible notes and the fire in her eyes every time she apparently grasped a new concept. He should've guessed she'd be the intellectual type, and caught himself admiring her passion for learning. An irrational wave of disgust washed over him as he forced himself to focus on his own notes. To think, he sneered mentally as he looked down at his pitifully lacking notes scrawled in spiky handwriting, he let a crazy, time-traveling Gryffindor distract him from his own learning. A _Gryffindor_, for goodness sake. Still, he couldn't help but nearly (not quite) smile as she snatched her wand up in her eagerness for the practical practice portion Flitwick had announced. They were to be practicing casting silent spells.

"Would you like to go first, or I?" She asked, glancing longingly at the feather they were meant to levitate.

He rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt you can manage to be silent, Granger, but feel free to try." Severus drawled, once again leaning back with his arms crossed. Hermione shot him a glare then focused on the feather. Her face screwed up slightly in concentration as she swished and flicked her wand. To his surprise and her delight, it immediately lifted into the air.

"And you didn't think I could." She gloated triumphantly. He just huffed. Flitwick took notice and hurried over, clapping his tiny hands.

"Well done, Miss Granger, well done!" He squeaked. To both Severus's and Hermione's horror, the entire class turned and stared before whispering among themselves. She reddened in embarrassment from the attention then turned pale as the memory of her first year charms class, which was eerily similar to this one, surfaced. She dropped the feather and shrunk in her seat as that in turned dredged up memories of Harry and Ron. Conscious of Severus's calculating stare, she willed the tears gathering in her eyes to go away. By this point, Flitwick had rambled off to encourage other classmates.

She finally jerked her head toward the feather and attempted to speak without her voice cracking. "Go… Go on and, erm, and try Severus." His black eyes narrowed at the warble in her voice, but once again chose tact over knowledge.

"Don't be pushy." He snarked half-heartedly and felt relieved when she rolled her water eyes. Confident she wouldn't burst into tears, he concentrated on the feather. Despite shouting Wingardium Leviosa in his mind, the damned thing refused to budge. Frustrated, he cut his eyes to his new partner, expecting to see her laughing at his failure. Instead, the Gryffindor witch was watching intently without a trace of judgment on her slightly forlorn looking face.

"Would you like me to help you?" Hermione offered while brushing some errant curls out of her face.

"Not especially" He said sourly, returning determinedly to brandishing his wand at the offending feather. Hermione watched, amused, as the Slytherine got more and more riled up over his struggles. Despite his pretty calm face, she picked up on the deepening furrow between his brows and the increasingly jerky and aggressive wand movements. Finally, she couldn't resist commenting with a correction. She'd thought she'd grown out of her know-it-all habits, but evidently not. Sighing, she gave herself over to the urge.

"Stop." The obedience demanded in her tone stopped his arm mid-swish. Recovering from the surprise, he turned with a scowl.

"Don't you dare…" He began in a hiss before she plucked his ebony wand from his fingers. He spluttered a protest, flushing slightly in anger and humiliation. What kind of Slytherine would be caught so off guard there wand could simply be grabbed away?

"Shut up Severus." She said in a low voice, unfazed by his anger but worried about any attention drawn to them. After all, she'd fought in a war, so why couldn't she handle another teenager? "Look, you're going about it all wrong. You're doing the wand-movements too fast, so your thoughts probably aren't coordinated with them. Try again, only _slower._"

He snatched his wand back and glowered at her from beneath the curtain of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. Deciding to wait and plot his rebuttal later instead of drawing attention to himself in class, he tried again to cast the silent spell with slower movements. To his astonishment and irritation, the feather lifted off the table as though pulled by an invisible string. Hermione just sat and basked in her satisfaction, refraining from a smug 'I told you so.' But only just barely. She almost missed the mumbled "Thank you" Severus reluctantly offered while making a face like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Smiling slightly, she just nodded.


End file.
